In Between
by Malanna
Summary: Companion short story for Dead to Rights, containing some set up for the sequel. If you haven't read DtR, I highly suggest doing so first : Please see author's notes for further summary.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is a short story companion piece for Dead to Rights. If you haven't read it, I suggest doing so first (just look on my profile). I expect this to run maybe four chapters. I was going to wait and put it all out at one time, but I got some PMs asking me to get something out soon. It contains some set up for the Dead to Rights sequel (still untitled). Think of it as similar to one of Ms. Harris' anthology pieces. Oh yes, it's told from Bill's POV, which I _hope_ I'm getting at least somewhat right. Bill doesn't 'speak' to me like Eric does, and I find myself struggling to get inside his head, but it was important for this piece to be from his POV (which will make sense down the road). Let me know how I'm doing!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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If he had any choice in the matter, Bill Compton would be anywhere but here. His eyes roamed the smoke-filled room, not focusing on anything in particular. A half-drunk bottle of True Blood sat on the table in front of him, idly being shuffled silently back and forth between his hands. A fangbanger across the room had been eying him for awhile and seemed about to make her move. She'd regret it the moment she took a step, being met with his icy glare, warning her to stay away. He was in no mood.

He'd been summoned to Fangtasia the night after he'd crawled from the ground where he'd been buried to heal. Bill had already been sitting in the corner booth near an hour, growing impatient. He knew Eric was purposeful in making him wait, and the amused smirks Pam would occasionally give him from her post at the door only confirmed it. Sometimes he wanted nothing more than to rip her throat out, other times he just wanted to throw her against a wall and fuck the smirk right off her face. She was far too big for her britches, in his estimation. Mostly Eric's influence, no doubt.

Bill was sure there was no good reason for him to be here, and that Eric was only using this meeting as an excuse to belittle him and flaunt things about Sookie in his face. His jaw clenched at the memory of how Eric had danced with her on New Year's Eve. Nothing could ever convince him that Eric cared about Sookie as anything more than an asset. She was just another prize to him, like the hood ornament on his Corvette. He would hurt her in ways that would pale in comparison to the wrongs Bill had committed. He just had to be patient. Sookie would eventually see Eric for the manipulative bastard he is, and Bill would be there. He would kill Eric, one way or another, and Sookie would finally be free to love him again.

He suppressed a growl as he felt Pam drawing near, opting to chug down the rest of the True Blood so that he needn't look at her.

"The _Master_ will see you now," she said, the emphasis intended to get a rise out of him.

He made no reply, grabbing his laptop case, and moving silently past her toward Eric's office. She patted his ass. He fought his instinctual response.

The mere sight of Eric was always enough to stir Bill's lust for battle and for blood. He hated him beyond all reason. His fangs ran down slightly as he paused in the office doorway, waiting permission to enter.

Eric's gaze flicked up from his computer, "Compton."

Bill forced himself to nod appropriately, "Eric." He moved to the chair Eric indicated across his desk. After drawing the cd-roms from his case and setting them on the desk, he crossed his ankle over his knee, hoping this would go quickly.

Eric barely regarded him as he spoke, "Those the VDB updates?"

Bill nodded silently.

"Good, Edgington wasn't happy about the wait," Eric said, referring to Bill's healing time.

"Will that be all?" Bill asked, not bothering to hide his irritation.

Eric ignored his tone, "No." He paused, as if considering his next move, but Bill knew better. Eric had this entire scenario planned long before Bill walked in, the pause was designed merely to make him uneasy. Bill set his jaw, preparing himself for the mental chess match about to ensue.

"Edgington has indicated interest in turning state affairs over to me," Eric commented in a rather blasé tone.

This was hardly surprising news, and Bill was sure Eric was only saying it to gauge his response. If Eric were to take over Louisiana, he would most likely have to move to New Orleans. Sookie would never willingly agree to leave Bon Temps, Bill knew, and certainly Eric did as well. Bill had to play this one carefully.

"You are certainly the logical choice," Bill replied, making sure to keep his enthusiasm over the idea concealed. While he may not relish the idea of Eric as a pro se King, getting him away from Sookie was worth any other issues that might arise.

Eric leaned back a bit in his high-backed, leather office chair, his gaze steady on Bill. He steepled his fingers in that smug, 'I'm superior to you' way, tapping them together like he was thinking. _Just make your move already_, Bill thought, unable to ignore the tension Eric was so purposefully building. He knew something was coming that would test his ability to remain in control, and he was adamant with himself that he would. Even as Eric rose from his chair, pacing slowly around behind him, Bill attempted to fix his mind to the task at hand. Eric would not get the better of him this time.

Eric stopped directly behind him, and Bill could feel his eyes boring into the top of his skull. "We will need a liaison to Mississippi, of course..."

Bill instinctively tensed, immediately cursing himself for showing any reaction. How could he have thought for one moment Eric would allow a situation where he was gone and Bill still in Bon Temps? He had to think fast.

"Given my history with Russell, I assume you don't mean me, of course," Bill said, as if he were stating the obvious. He knew, of course, that's exactly what Eric meant. Not only would he remove Bill from Sookie's life, but he'd send him to the place of his own torture. Right back to where his relationship with Sookie first began to crumble.

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that Bill. Russell's all but forgotten it. He was only returning a favor to _Lorena_, you know," Eric stated in that cocky, smooth voice that made Bill's blood boil.

"Of course," Bill said coolly, though he knew Eric could feel his anger rising. The air was almost palpable with tension. Things were quickly going down hill, and Bill cursed himself once again. He needed something... a comeback Eric wouldn't be expecting... something pragmatic.

"However, my work on the database consumes the majority of my time. Russell certainly would not want me... distracted from something that brings in so much profit," Bill said, a bit of his confidence returning. _Argue with that one, Northman_.

Eric didn't miss a beat.

"On the contrary, Compton. That's what makes you perfect for the position. This way Russell can oversee the financial end of things, leaving you more than enough time for the technical work and your liaison duties," Eric smirked, and his tone indicated no further discussion was required. He may as well have said 'checkmate'.

But Bill... was about to throw the chess board.

"Why don't you just admit you want me away from Sookie," Bill hissed, giving Eric, who had rounded to the side of the desk, an icy stare.

Eric bent toward him, his eyes widening with warning, "And why would I care about your proximity to Sookie, Bill? She is _mine_." His tone was daring Bill to make a move, throwing words he once spoke back in his face.

Bill stood so fast he knocked his chair over backwards, fangs running out, followed immediately by Eric's.

"Compton, turn around and walk out of this office _now_," Eric growled.

They were staring each other down, and Bill's survival instinct wrestled for dominance over his anger. He would not survive long in a straight on fight with Eric, but his jealousy and rage over Eric's theft of Sookie were winning out. For that's exactly how Bill saw it, Eric had stolen Sookie by tricking her into taking his blood so many times. Eric was undoubtedly forcing her compliance through their bond.

"You don't care about Sookie, she's just another trophy to you. You force her to heel like a dog!" Bill heaved.

Eric's fist was making contact with Bill's chest before he had a chance to react, and he was sent flying backward, smashing into the corridor wall outside the office. He scrambled to his feet, lunging for Eric, who was already leaping toward him. The two clashed together in a fury of gnashing fangs and clawed hands. Blood lust and rage had taken all sense of control or reason from Bill, and all he could think of in that moment was sending Eric to his final death.

That, of course, was not going to happen. It could not have been more than ten seconds before Eric had his hand around Bill's throat, flying through the back exit into the alley. Bill felt bones breaking as Eric hurled him into the wall, and he landed in a heap on the gravel, knocking the fight out of him. He braced for the next fist or kick or bite, but Eric just hovered over him, growling, his face strained with... holding himself back.

"Just stake me and get it over with," Bill croaked, his voice raspy.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Compton? To go to your final death thinking yourself a martyr for Sookie's honor," Eric snarled.

Bill glared, "That's right, _Eric_. If you actually cared about her, you would've thrown me into the sun after... after what I did to her in Mississippi."

Remembering what he'd done to Sookie in the trunk was more pain to him than Eric could ever dish out. There were so many nights he considered waiting for the sun, barely able to bear his own guilt and shame. Eric should have killed him then, to avenge Sookie. If he'd loved her even a fraction of what Bill did, he would have.

His words seemed to have the opposite effect on Eric from what he'd anticipated. Bill knew he'd given Eric every justifiable reason the Sheriff ever needed to declare his existence forfeit. But, instead of the torrent of rage he'd expected to unleash, Eric... was laughing.

"And _that_, Bill Compton, is why you lost her. You have never had any understanding of that magnificent creature." Eric shook his head down at Bill, "Compton, you rise each night... _because_ I love her."

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks to the astute reader who pointed out a gaffe in my own continuity (argh, you have no idea how that frustrates me lol) concerning Pam. At the time In Between takes place, Pam is still recovering from her severed arm. However, this is Pam we're talking about, and she probably got restless enough to go into work for at least a bit (and probably terrorized some Fangtasia clientèle due to the pain, and for sheer amusement). I'm still considering what, if anything other than Bill noting the partially missing limb, to add into the previous chapter. I'll work it out before the final edit (which I'm notoriously slow at getting around to, DtR is still waiting on final revision). I hope you can all look past my little 'oops' for now. Thanks, as always, for the great reviews!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Bill sat with his back to the wall, arms resting over his bent knees. He'd need to feed to heal his injuries quickly, but at the moment he didn't care. The back door to Fangtasia was battering against the frame with the wind (Eric had broken the bottom hinge when he slammed it on his way back in). Bill inclined his head back against the brick, closing his eyes.

His thoughts were jumbled, but he was pointedly steering clear of examining Eric's words. Had they come from anyone else, Bill would probably have given them consideration, but nothing Eric said held any sway with him. Sure, one could argue his anger was clouding his mind, but he was a vampire, not a human in need of psycho-analysis. His opinions of Eric's motivations would not be called into question so easily.

Before he could sink any further into his thoughts, Bill became aware of a presence drawing closer. Another vampire. He flicked his gaze up, expecting to see Pam or Felicia, or some other equally annoying member of his kind. Instead his eyes beheld a stranger.

"Are... are you alright?" she asked tentatively, her voice soft and hinted with an accent. Cuban, Bill suspected.

It was an odd question, indeed, for a vampire to ask another. Bill recognized immediately that she was quite young, thinking she could not have been turned more than a year ago. The girl had approached from the parking lot, and looked quite out of place for Fangtasia. She was petite, barely five feet tall, with flawless, olive skin. Waves of thick, mocha colored hair pooled about her shoulders, framing an oval face and deep brown eyes. She had on just a hint of light, tasteful makeup. The girl wore one of those Mexican style, off the shoulder blouses that had little flowers embroidered along the top. It was paired with a long, white cotton skirt that billowed in the wind. She had red, cork-bottomed sandals that matched the embroidery of her blouse. Bill caught the scent of jasmine.

Despite his mood, there was something disarming about her, and he found his tone had reverted to his gentlemanly drawl when he addressed her.

"I am ... fine, thank you."

The girl gave him a look of uncertainty and was soon crouching down beside him, "Well, forgive me, but you don't look... fine." Her voice was gentle, not at all mocking. Bill was struck a bit by how she appeared both exotic and shy at the same time.

"I do thank you for your concern Miss..."

"Elana," she interjected.

He nodded his head slightly, "Miss Elana. I assure you, I am fine."

She nodded deeply, as if remembering herself, "Just Elana, Sir."

"Bill," he found himself answering.

Elana smiled nervously at him, and he couldn't help but find it endearing. He recalled his own trepidation at meeting other vampires after he'd been turned. Of course, Lorena had never been far, and was all too good at adding to his apprehension. He idly wondered where this girl's maker was.

"Wait here," she said, as if struck by an idea, and dashed off inside Fangtasia. Bill chuckled a bit to himself at her still very human mannerisms.

Elana re-emerged a few moments later, leading an obviously glamoured fangbanger by the arm. Bill arched a brow at her as Elana was nudging the fangbanger to kneel down beside him. The human swished her long red hair to one side, exposing her neck to him.

"Dinner is served," Elana grinned at him.

"Not here," Bill said coolly, even as his fangs ran out. There were strict rules about feeding in close proximity to Fangtasia. It wasn't that Bill gave a damn about Eric, but he didn't want to send the wrong message to this young vampire.

Elana glanced left then right, "I won't tell if you won't."

Bill hid his amusement at her child-like behavior, shaking his head and pushing the human aside as he rose to his feet. Elana moved like she wanted to help him up, but stopped herself, her inner debate showing clearly on her face. Bill nodded to her, assuring her she'd made the right choice. He grabbed the fangbanger's wrist to lead her to his car.

"Enjoy your evening, Elana."

"Oh... um..." she stammered.

Bill quirked a brow at her. She looked far more tense all of a sudden, shuffling her feet on the gravel.

"The Sheriff... is he... umm..." she trailed off.

Bill realized instantly that she must have just arrived in town and was here to present herself to Eric. He felt his shoulders sag just a bit. Elana must have noticed because she began wringing her hands.

"That bad?" she asked, her tone almost timid.

He felt a bit guilty that he'd added to her apprehension. As much as he may despise Eric, Bill's problems with him were his own. Even he had to admit that Eric was fair, as Sheriffs went. He considered his words carefully, murmuring into the human's ear to wait at his car. Once she was out of earshot, Bill cast his gaze to Elana's eyes, almost taken aback by the... innocence in them.

"No," he said gently, "Eric is... well-liked." He tried not to choke on the words. She was searching his eyes, as if looking for truth. He managed a small smile.

"I've never... done this before," she admitted.

He nodded, "First time... leaving the nest?" Bill said, attempting a colloquialism that would be familiar to her.

She bit at her lower lip, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. If he couldn't sense it, Bill would never have believed her a vampire. He wrestled inwardly with himself, knowing this could all be an act on her part. Yet, to his own alarm, he found himself empathizing with her.

"Do you... have a safe place to stay?" he asked tentatively.

She looked down at the ground embarrassedly, "I've been staying in Greenwood Cemetery."

Bill wrinkled his nose a bit. He was no stranger to going to ground in a pinch, but he was fortunate in that he'd always had his own safe haven. Hospitality was a value most vampires afforded each other, and perhaps his sense of it was stronger due to the time and place he'd been mortal. It certainly seemed her maker was none too concerned with her welfare, and Bill wondered how much she'd been taught about their ways.

"I can... offer you a safe place to stay," he said, careful his tone wasn't implying anything untoward. He was still a Southern gentleman in some ways.

She looked up, her eyes immediately brightening. "Well, let's get out of here!" she said, already turning to head to his car.

Bill smirked, shaking his head a bit, and followed her as she practically skipped to his car. What had he gotten himself into?

~*~*~

About an hour later they were pulling into the driveway of Bill's Bon Temps home. He had pulled over at a rest stop a little ways from Fangtasia to feed on the fangbanger, and was feeling mostly healed. Elana had wanted to watch him feed, but he wasn't sure about her level of control, so had told her to wait in the car. She did, though he thought he caught a little pouting about it. Bill called the human a cab, slipping her enough money for the fare, and then glamoured the memory from her. Even though fangbangers were willing donors, Bill despised feeding off them in general, and didn't want to chance them coming to him again with expectations.

The car ride consisted mostly of small talk. Bill learned that Elana had been a Cuban refugee in her mortal life, arriving in Florida at age sixteen. She'd taken full advantage of the 'American Dream', putting herself through college by working at a Miami nightclub. She'd earned a Bachelor's Degree in psychology, and had planned to go on to med school. Her story abruptly stopped there, and she made some excuse about liking the song on the radio, but Bill could fill in the gaps. Vampires were not allowed to practice medicine, and he had to assume being turned had cut her plans short. He had no idea if her turning had been consensual, but certainly wouldn't pry.

He moved around the car to open her door, struck again by how tiny she seemed as she brushed gracefully past him with a bit of a nervous smile. He turned to go in, but found his gaze lingering off in the direction of Sookie's house. Sometimes he thought he could catch her faint scent on the breeze, though it was probably only in his mind. He remembered the night he'd risen from his injuries, and how deftly Sookie had handled him. It still amazed him how brave she could be, though he would never stop fearing that it would get her killed someday.

"Who is she?" came Elana's soft voice at his side.

He startled a bit at her observation, flicking his gaze down at her.

"The look in your eyes," she said simply, "It's not an easy one to mistake."

He wouldn't... or couldn't, acknowledge how right she was. This wasn't a conversation he was willing to have, and certainly not with a virtual stranger. He moved past her to the front door, and luckily Elana didn't press the issue further.

"Please come in," he invited once inside.

She smiled and stepped over the threshold, taking in her surroundings. Bill had mostly completed the renovations to the old house, due in large part to Sookie's help. Even after all that happened, she had never stopped assisting him with the contractors when he asked, though Selah had taken over those duties for a time.

After giving Elana a quick tour, she went to warm some True Blood for them while Bill got a fire going. Even though he didn't need the warmth, he still enjoyed watching the firelight. It often helped him clear his head. Soon they were both settled at opposite ends of the sofa. They sat in silence for a time, sipping their drinks, pondering the evenings' events.

Bill found Elana's company oddly comforting. She seemed to sense when it was appropriate to carry on conversation, and when he needed silence. Venturing a glance toward her, she seemed as hypnotized by the fire as he had been. There was an air about her that was somehow both innocent and wise. She lifted her eyes to his, probably having sensed his gaze, and smiled gently, tucking her hair behind her ears. He'd already gathered it was a nervous habit of hers.

"Thank you for allowing me to share your home," she said softly, her accent just enough to be captivating, but not so much as to make her difficult to understand.

"You are welcome," he said, finding his own drawl a bit more pronounced.

In all honesty, Bill had no idea where he would go from this point. Perhaps she would stay the night, and be on her way the next. She did still need to check in with Eric, and Bill thought perhaps he'd offer to give her a bit of coaching, though he'd need to find a way to offer in a manner she wouldn't find insulting. He'd also realized that, other than a small shoulder bag, she didn't have her personal effects with her. Maybe she has a vehicle parked somewhere, he thought. This had been so spur of the moment, he hadn't had much of a chance to think it through, or ask these questions that were now staring him in the face. However, dawn was rapidly approaching, and further investigation would have to wait till sundown.

Luckily Bill had recently light-proofed a spare bedroom in the house, on the off chance he should ever need to shelter another of his kind. The irony of the timing was not lost on him, and he chuckled to himself at the unexpected turn tonight had taken. After making sure Elana was comfortable and had what she needed, he descended under the house into his resting place. He wondered what surprises tomorrow would have in store. As he slipped into his daytime death, he couldn't help but smile.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: My apologies this update took a bit longer than usual, holiday madness is in full swing for me. This is the last chapter of In Between. I had intended one more, but why give too much away?

The anticipated sequel to Dead to Rights (entitled Left for Dead) will be up within the next few days. It'll be chock full of answers to the questions left open at the end of DtR and this short story... but I'm sure it will open up plenty of new ones as well.

As always, thanks so much for the reviews – they're my fuel and inspiration!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or stories from The Southern Vampire series. I can only hope that Ms. Harris does not mind me taking them out to play with.

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Elana had been with him for over a week, and it was beginning to look like Bill might have an indefinite nest mate. He discovered she'd come to Shreveport with little more than the clothes on her back, and no plans to speak of. Bill got the sense she'd had to leave Miami in a hurry, but other than verifying it was not due to any issues with the local power structure, he hadn't pressed her to reveal the circumstances. Despite her playful nature, she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Bill doubted she would have made such a hasty move unless it were necessary. Other than revealing she'd only been turned three months ago, she told him nothing of her maker or why he'd released her so soon. At least, Bill hoped she'd been released. She clearly hadn't been called back, so it seemed a safe assumption, although the idea her maker was finally dead had certainly crossed Bill's mind.

There was much Elana didn't know. She had the basics, sure, but their society and politics were full of nuance and tradition that, if unobserved, could spell disaster for any new vampire. Bill had been giving her a crash course over the past week, trying to fill her head with all the information her maker should have, and he had found himself becoming increasingly agitated at the irresponsibility of whomever had turned her. It was lucky for her that she'd run into Bill before presenting herself to Eric, for he knew now that would likely not have gone well. She was a quick study, and Bill couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at his ability to mold her into a presentable vampire. Elana treated him with deference and respect, something he'd gotten very little of in recent times, and he hadn't realized how much he needed it. While he bolstered her confidence, she also restored his.

He was standing in the living room, staring out the window, waiting for Elana to finish getting ready. Tonight he would take her to Fangtasia to meet Eric, a prospect that certainly didn't thrill him, but needed to be done. Elana had allowed Bill to furnish her with some new clothes, but under the condition she would pay him back as soon as Eric cleared her to stay and find employment. The debate over the clothing had reminded Bill all too much of the money arguments he'd had with Sookie.

Bill took a few paces around the room before settling at the piano. He ran his fingers softly across the keys, feeling himself dipping into the despair that had become as familiar as an old friend. He hadn't seen Sookie since the night he'd risen, nor heard from her. He'd hoped to see her when he took Elana to Merlotte's last night, but was stuck with Arlene as their waitress since Sookie wasn't working. The red-head didn't bother to hide her disgust for them. Elana had done her best to charm the bitch, but even her disarming nature couldn't put a dent in Arlene's hate. Elana seemed almost hurt by it, but Bill told her she'd better get used to it.

"I'd love to hear you play," Elana said softly, now standing at the side of the piano.

Bill looked up at her. She was lovely in the simple, emerald green dress they'd chosen from Tara's Togs. It was a jersey knit with a wide neck and clung gently to her small frame, flaring out just above the knee. Bill rotated his finger, indicating for her to spin. She did, and he gave her an approving smile. He couldn't deny her beauty, but his feelings for her were more that of a proud parent, rather than anything intimate. The night before he could feel her desire as he leaned in to kiss her forehead, but he'd simply tucked her into bed, wishing her a peaceful rest. His heart belonged to another, and his affection for Elana would not allow him to act on any momentary feelings of lust.

He rose from the piano bench, replying, "If you do well tonight, I will play for you when we return home."

She beamed at the promised reward, tucking her hair behind her ears. Bill offered his arm, leading her out to his car, and they were soon on the road headed for Shreveport. He quizzed her a bit during the first part of the drive, but the closer they got to Fangtasia, the more his mood began to sour, and they settled into silence. Bill was debating waiting for her in the car, not wanting to chance having to speak to Eric, but the constant hair-tucking and hand-wringing of his companion nixed that idea. He had to force himself to put aside his own issues in order to support his young fledgling. She'd earned it.

"Hey," he said, taking her hand after pulling into a parking spot, "You're going to be fine, Elana. I'll be right at the bar waiting for you."

She smiled gratefully, giving his hand a little squeeze, which he returned. Bill noticed the clasp on her necklace had slid around to the front, and he gently took it between his fingers, righting the position. He felt her shiver a bit at his touch, aware her fangs had run out. She leaned closer into him, silently begging him to kiss her. He placed his hands on her cheeks, tilting her head down, and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. Bill couldn't deny the small surge of want that ran through him, but he pushed it aside, quickly exiting the car. He tried to pretend he didn't see the pain of rejection that momentarily flashed across her face.

Bill went around to open her door, offering his hand. She took it, though he sensed a bit of reluctance, and he escorted her across the parking lot. Waiting in line at the doors, Bill sensed something of a commotion going on inside. It wasn't like the intensity that surrounded a dangerous situation, but more like the excited energy one might feel at a big party. He peeked around curiously to try and discover what was going on.

Nothing could have prepared Bill for the sight he beheld as they made their way inside.

"Wow, who are _they_?" Elana asked excitedly.

Bill couldn't answer. His vision was turning red with rage, barely believing what he was seeing in the middle of the dance floor. A blond, clad in revealing leather and a gauzy skirt, was writhing up and down Eric's body, almost like a stripper on a pole. The crowd was gawking, the sexual tension in the air palpable. Pam was watching with her typical grin as the girl grabbed Eric's ass during the heated dance. But... this blond, that Eric now hoisted over his shoulder, was no typical fangbanger...

...it was Sookie.

Bill tore back out to the parking lot, shoving aside anyone who got in his way. The fury that was consuming him was more intense than any he'd ever felt in battle. He spotted Eric's Corvette, and flew straight toward it, driving his fist into the hood so hard that it buckled into a huge dent. He tore off the mirrors, jumped onto the hood, and put his foot through the windshield.

"Bill!!" he vaguely heard someone scream.

He turned, glaring at the fledgling that barely registered on his radar, and then took to the sky. He flew past the highway and into an area of thick forest overgrowth. He was shaking with the intensity of his rage, tearing trees from the ground, clawing blindly into anything he could damage. His knuckles were bleeding from the force of his punches into the tree bark, and he couldn't recognize his own voice when the howls and growling burst out from the pit of his stomach. He grabbed a thicker tree with both hands, ripping it out from the roots, and using it to smash down others.

He continued to tear a path of destruction through the twisted limbs and branches. One of the numerous broken limbs had a perfectly sharp point at its end. Bill grabbed it, holding it in front of him, aimed at his heart. It hit him all in that instant... he'd lost her. Truly lost her. Maybe he'd never had her to begin with. The image of her behaving like a fangbanger slut... for _him_... he'd never be able to remove it from his mind. He should march back and stake Eric first... then himself...

"Bill?" came a gentle voice, a hand grabbing onto the arm that held the impromptu stake.

His head snapped sideways, and it took a moment for him to realize it was Elana. He snatched at her hand, twisting it away.

"Get away from me," he growled, showing his fangs and staring her down.

She showed fang right back, "No."

His eyes widened, and he lunged his hand for her throat, grabbing and tossing her backward. She managed to grab onto the stake just before, ripping it from his hand as he threw her. This only angered him more, his hands curling into claws, every sense in him wanting to tear her apart.

But, she was up and on her feet before he'd made a move, lunging toward him and knocking him to his back. He grabbed for her wrists, feeling her fangs graze the back of his hand as she turned her head to bite. He deftly flipped her off him, landing in a straddle on top of her. He growled down at her and she hissed up at him, their eyes locked in rage and blood lust.

And suddenly, he was tearing her dress from her, and she was shredding his shirt. He dove his fangs into her breast, and hers found his shoulder. They became a tangle of limbs... biting... clawing... growling and completely animalistic. They were all over the place... on the ground... against a tree... hovering in midair... consumed with each other in a haze of madness and lust.

Their flesh was covered in smears of dirt and blood, ravaging each others' bodies with no regard for injury or pain or the power of the endless blood exchange. His fingers were driving into her... her nails clawing into his ass... and both grunting and screaming with their primal urge. Bill threw her, face down, over a tree branch, not hesitating as he mounted her with a force that would have shattered a human pelvis. Over and over he thrust into her, fucking her with every ounce of anger and hate that had festered and boiled over. She screamed and begged for more, and he raked his nails down her back, and reached around to mercilessly finger her clit.

As he felt his climax building, he sank his fangs into her back, sucking in rhythm with every slam into her. He grabbed her by the hair, yanking her head back, and felt her muscles spasm around him as she crested on a wave of intense orgasm. He thrust violently a few more times, and howled as his own came, flooding her with his release.

He collapsed onto her back, shaking as the tension in his muscles was finally beginning to relax. She trembled beneath him, laying like a limp rag doll, bent in half over the tree limb. A few aftershocks hit him, causing a few more spasms of his member, which was still lodged inside her. She grunted a bit.

Eventually he dragged himself off of her, flopping onto his back on the hard ground. He laid his arm over his eyes, not able to bring himself to look at her. Bill knew she'd want an explanation, and that was the last thing he wanted to give her. He'd undermined his authority with her, and feared she'd now have expectations. _Could this night get any fucking worse_.

He heard her finally lifting herself off the limb and the crunching of leaves as she settled on the ground next to him. He tensed, fearing she was about to try and snuggle into him, like there was some blissful afterglow to share. All he wanted was for her to go away.

"You could just... kill him," she said flatly.

Bill's eyes flew open, staring up at her as she tried to somehow fasten her torn dress back around her body. It was certainly the last thing he'd expected to hear from her, and he had no idea how to even react. She'd actually caught him off guard, and the grin on her face told him she noticed.

"You don't know what you're talking about," he growled softly.

She shrugged, tying her hair into a loose knot at the base of her neck. "Well, I know what I saw... it's up to you to tell me the rest."

Bill was getting annoyed now. Perhaps he hadn't taught her as well as he'd thought. "And why would I do that?" he snapped.

She fixed her gaze on his, her stare intense and deadly serious. "I think you owe me that much," she replied.

Bill just snorted.

She reached over, placing a hand on his cheek to turn his gaze back to hers. There was a glint of danger in them he'd never seen. She leaned down, kissing him fiercely, crushing her lips to his. After a few moments, she broke away, grinning down at him.

"I'll help you, Bill," she held the tree limb up, shaking it with a smirk. "You fill me in, and we'll come up with a plan to put Mr. Tall and Blond back in the grave."

Bill arched a brow, silently watching her... and allowed her words to sink in.

_The End_


End file.
